


Carpe Diem

by bees_stories



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Blow Job, M/M, Making Out, PWP, Surprise Sex, sofa sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bees_stories/pseuds/bees_stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock isn't always thinking about crime and criminals, and sometimes, that surprises John (in a good way.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carpe Diem

***

John looked up from his computer and saw that Sherlock hadn't stirred. For the last half hour he'd been sitting with his eyes on the page before him, supposedly reading, but it was clear that his thoughts were any place but on the book in his lap. He wasn't reading. He probably wasn't even thinking. He seemed … lost.

A glance at the clock showed it was late, nearly midnight. John shut his computer down and set it aside. He went to Sherlock and knelt down next to him. It was easy to slip the slim medical text from out from between Sherlock's yielding fingers and mark his spot with an unopened letter before setting it carefully on the floor. "Sherlock?" John queried softly when there was no reaction to removing the book. "Earth to Sherlock, come in, please." 

Slowly, the spark of intelligence seemed to flicker in Sherlock's eyes. He roused from where ever his thoughts had taken him and he gave John a perplexed scowl. "John, what are you doing?" 

John rose to his feet and held out his hand. "Going to bed. Hopefully, not alone." 

Sherlock's fingers closed around John's, a small sign that the tendered offer had been accepted. "Your room in fifteen minutes?" 

John nodded. He glanced down at the book and back up at Sherlock, fixing him with a stern look that was driven by concern. "If you're not there, I'll come looking," he warned. 

"I thought I might shower first," Sherlock said. 

John considered the possibilities. They'd never had sex in the shower. But then, they were new at this, they'd never done a lot of things. For example, he thought to himself as he sat on Sherlock's lap and then put his arms around Sherlock's shoulders, they'd never kissed on the sofa, not even once. 

"John?" Sherlock said uncertainly. "How am I meant to get ready for bed if you're sitting in my lap?" 

John shrugged at him. "I'm thinking I don't want to wait fifteen minutes, or even five minutes before I kiss you," he said before shifting their positions so he could do just that. 

Sherlock made a noise that was part protest and part surprise against John's lips before he yielded, meeting John's first tentative kiss with a far more assertive one of his own. 

"Wow!" John said softly as they parted. "Not complaining at all, but what brought that on?" 

"Carpe diem," Sherlock replied before he guided John's mouth back to his. 

The intensity of the first kiss had caught John off guard. All he'd meant to do was set the stage for some fun in the shower with a little light-hearted foreplay. But Sherlock's first feint had threatened to take his breath away, and the second was teetering on putting all thoughts of shower sex straight out of his head. "Yeah, okay," John replied dazedly as he was hoisted bodily and pushed down against the cushions and Sherlock began to kiss him again.

"Clothes, John," Sherlock murmured.

And by that, John translated, Sherlock meant there was too many of them even if they were both only dressed in pyjama bottoms, vests, and dressing gowns. 

The outer layers were the first to go and also the most difficult to manage. The bows that held the ties closed were easy enough to get free, but the long lengths of the dressing gowns themselves, even after they were pushed open and over their shoulders, seemed to want to tangle with their bodies until Sherlock actually pulled John's out from underneath him with a rending of fabric that meant it could never be worn at breakfast again. "I'll buy you a new one," Sherlock promised, before he tossed the dressing gown onto the floor and started in on John's vest. 

Bare chests were nice, especially when they led to the sort of nuzzling that made John's cock stand to attention, but it was the pyjama bottoms that were really getting in the way, or at least the pants under the pyjama bottoms. 

There wasn't a whole lot of room for them on the sofa, even if they did end up stretched out on their sides, arms and legs tangled and Sherlock pressed so far against the backrest he might as well have been a part of it. He seemed oblivious to the uncomfortable position; his attention was entirely focused on John and synchronizing their movements until their breathing was in time with the thrusts of his hips as they ground against one another. 

Very reluctantly, John pulled away. "There's not enough room here, Sherlock," he panted. "Come on, let's go to yours." 

It wasn't easy, but John got to his feet. Sherlock smiled, and it was that of a predator. "Gotcha," he said triumphantly, as he trapped John's hips and then yanked his pyjamas and pants down in one go. "Perfect." 

Sherlock wrapped his fingers around John's erection and John knew he was utterly helpless to do more then stand there and take it as he was stroked with the perfect combination of pressure and tempo. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind," he managed to stammer. 

Sherlock chuckled. "No? That's funny, because that's exactly the look I was imagining on your face when I was thinking about this earlier. You look utterly at my mercy, John. Like you'd do whatever I commanded if only I kept doing this." He added a twist of his wrist at the top of the next upstroke. 

John moaned low and long and then he opened his eyes and stared at Sherlock in disbelief. "Bastard, you set me up!" 

Sherlock's hand kept moving at the same maddeningly perfect tempo. "You've been teasing me all evening long. Sitting there with your legs parted just enough so I could imagine what it'd be like to kneel in front of you."

"I … I thought you'd finally got lost in your mind palace," John managed, although it wasn't easy with Sherlock driving him utterly mad, and his knees threatening to give way from trembling. 

"You'd like my reference section," Sherlock said. A teasing smile played about his lips and it was reflected in the smoky tone of his voice. "Some of my recent reading has been quite … stimulating. One might even say enlightening." 

John gasped. He was so close to coming he wasn't sure if he was going to make it to the bedroom, let alone through whatever conversational tangent had perversely grasped Sherlock, but he couldn't help asking, "Are we talking Kama Sutra or something Tantric? Because I could use a fast lesson in the second if you're planning on doing that for very much longer."

"Then let me help you, John." Sherlock licked his lips and brought his mouth down over John's cock with one fluid and very well timed stroke, and then dragged his lips and tongue up again until they formed a perfect circle around the head.

"Oh! Oh – " John was gone, lost to incoherency by the perfection of Sherlock's technique and timing. He grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and hung on as his knees buckled, barely aware that Sherlock was digging his fingers into his hips as he swallowed down pulse after pulse of ejaculate. 

"Is that better?" Sherlock asked. He drizzled lubricant over his condom-sheathed erection and then guided John onto his lap. 

"When did you find the time to put that on?" John muttered, amazed at Sherlock's feat of sleight of hand. He sank down onto Sherlock's erection, aware after the myriad of surprises he'd already experienced that he was probably in for the ride of his life.

end


End file.
